Lo, there came upon the family two new members, and they were good

ANNOUNCEMENT:

No, she's not mine. I WISH. This here is Madeleine, my niece!

My brother James is marrying the sweet, lovely, incredibly brave (sorry, James) Gillian, who comes complete with BABY. That's what we call "value added."

I have no pictures of Gillian because when I met the baby I was too busy 1) adoring her and 2) trying not to eat her whole. You'll have to take my word for it when I tell you they are an attractive couple.

And oh my word. THIS BABY GIRL. Babies are even better when they're not yours. 

I say unto thee: I bring you tidings of great joy, and also hook a baby up with some victuals, wilt thou?

Oh, Maddy. I wilt. I WILT.

An absolutely nonsensical post about eyeballs

I keep absentmindedly rubbing the inside of my eye. Not the INSIDE, it's not like I'm rooting around in my optic nerve. I mean the part around the tear duct. Probably I mean "the tear duct." This move then activates mysterious Itch Receptors all around the inside rims of my eyelids and subsequently I want to spend the rest of the day scratching at my eye-coverings with a shrimp fork. What kind of fucked-up god or Science Devil decided this was a good plan, to make the tear-duct area so exquisitely sensitive to any kind of rubbing/scratching/poking? All it takes is the least pressure with my finger or knuckle or dog nose and then JUST LIKE THAT mascara is running into my cleavage while I claw at my face. I can't remember if this happens all the time or it's some kind of allergy-related itchiness. Has it happened my whole life? My brain has cleared all the eye-scratching memories right out of my head. It's like there have been more important things!

I do clearly recall the time I scratched my cornea, because you don't forget a thing like that. I still maintain that my corneal scratch was more painful than childbirth. Certainly less rewarding. Absolutely nothing to show for it at the end. Except for an infection a couple of months later, which was just as painful and decidedly un-cute.

How did I scratch my cornea, you may be asking?  Here is the true answer I gave to every medical professional I dealt with that day: I poked myself in the eye. With my finger. The entire story is that I was trying to get something out of my eye when my cat startled me, but the cat detail didn't seem important. I can't blame the cat for this genius move. The fact is, when your finger is already resting against your eyeball, you should concentrate. And really, what could the cat have been doing that was really so alarming? I can't even remember. This was a cat we had long ago. She's dead now, and cannot answer my questions. Even if she had leapt off the armoire and sailed past me like a flying squirrel I should have at least REMOVED MY FINGER before turning to see what she was up to.

This actually looks like something my old cat could have done. She was kind of flappy.

Speaking of eyes, which it appears I am doing, my sister tore her retina a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't anything she did or (fortunately) anything I did (I would really hate to have injured someone else's eye with my wayward fingers); apparently this can just…happen. Bodies! They are totally fucked.

She had to have emergency futuristic laser-cat surgery (except without cats) and then, you guys, THEN. Then she was instructed to not move her eyes for a week.  A WEEK. I still cannot get over this. The period has already come and gone and I am still talking about it to anyone who will listen. No eye movement for a week! She could not: read, email, Internet-browse, cook, use a phone, or take a walk. All she could do was watch television (from a distance), and, I guess, stare into space. Probably she could also bathe. BUT NO READING THE SHAMPOO BOTTLE. No reading! At all! Do you know how much daytime television she had to watch? How many Dove commercials about the perils of discolored armpits? Do you think this caused permanent emotional scarring because I DO. It scarred me, and I only had to hear about it.

I called Liz a few days into her no-eye-moving trial and I was like WAIT A MINUTE WHAT ABOUT RAPID EYE-MOVEMENT. How do you control your dreams, Liz?! And then she had to explain to me that the goal was to minimize movement as much as possible, that of course some movement was inevitable, and I breathed into a paper bag and we were both okay.

And then my eye started itching again.  I wasn't going to call her back to update her on this itching situation. But then I realized she had nothing better to do than to listen to my problems, and anyway she shouldn't watch that much Kathie Lee and Hoda. And the moral of this story is that I am a really, really good sister.

I am good at some things but not others

Oh, you guys said some lovely things about my sketch-paintings. Thank you! My heart is warmed. Now I have Hot Heart Syndrome. The doctor said I'll be okay, as long as I'm not startled or upset, ever.

So listen, I would love to illustrate whatever, but I can't draw anything that isn't right in front of me. This is my terrible secret. Seriously, I have no visual memory. I can't even really picture what an elephant looks like right now, much less draw it. (It's gray! And…and looks like a briefcase! Wait, no, that's wrong. Four Ionic columns and a cloud?!) If I were to illustrate, I'd need to see everything I needed to represent. This could get tricky for, say, a children's book. "Listen, I'm glad you want me to illustrate Mr. Wubs and the Tricky Mubbles, but unless you get them all to my apartment and force them to stand still, I really can't do business with you. Yes, the Mubbles too. I understand they're tricky. Not my problem."

The End.

Changing the subject awkwardly: On Christmas day, my parents gave me a pair of warm mittens. They are adorable, in addition to being warm. (It was not the only gift from them. My parents are nothing if not overly generous.)

ANYWAY, after we were done gifting, my mom said, "By the way, the mittens came with a hat, but I think there's something wrong with it." She showed me the hat, which appeared to be perfectly acceptable and something I would happily place on my head.

But then I tried it on:

"You see?" she said. "I don't know why it looks so goofy."
"I can't see," I said. "I'm so confused. Everything is dark. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME." I stumbled around and my mom laughed a whole lot. I suspect this was a Christmas gift to her.

And then my sister walked in and said, "Yeah, you have it on backwards. Also, don't tie it, oh my god."

RIGHT.

This reminded me of this one summer in college when I worked as a bank teller, and I was terrible at it, just awful, and a fellow teller said to me, helpfully, "There are different kinds of smarts. You have book smarts. You just don't have…life smarts."

It took me this long to discover that I also don't have hat smarts. At least in this case I can blame my mom.

Regarding your latest email

I love my parents and related old-ish people. I do! I love that they're all, to a person, compelled to forward any email they receive that might be viewed as cute, funny, important, or all three. But then they get frustrated with me for not replying. If you're of the Greatest Generation and are wondering why I never respond to such emails, here's what it looks like on my end.


From: Fictional great-aunt
To: Alice Bradley
Subject: FW: Fwd: Fwd: Re: FORWARD: Fwd:
-------

Thought you guys might want to see this. WOW!!

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Join Excite! - http://www.excite.com
The most personalized portal on the Web!

FORWARDED MESSAGE

From: 2319Grandmacutie@aol.com
To: mymailman@aol.com, 193457h@yahoo.com, MyDaughterEileen@hotmail.com, 1sttimeoninternet@optonline.net, Ilovefunnyjokes@yahoo.com, oldyoldensen@hotmail.com, computersfrightenme@nyc.rr.whatever.com, StillHot19u7@aol.com

FUNNY!

---

--FWD MESSAGE--

From: StillHot19u7@aol.com
To: asdkuo@hotmail.com, billyjoelis#1@hotmail.com, mythirdcousin@excite.com, guttercleaners@aol.com, windowwashergil1965@aol.com, 2319Grandmacutie@aol.com


TOO IMPORTANT NOT TO READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



--ORIGINAL MESSAGE--

From: stevetheaccountant@accountantswestchester.com
To: brendan073467@aol.com, webfiwery@hotmail.com, werewolves@hotmail.com, noteventryingtocomeupwitheasyemailaddress@optonline.net, theinternetfrightensme@excite.com, mygranddaughterconvincedmetoopenanelectronicmailaccount@hotmail.com, sexyjanet@hotmail.com

I thought you guys might like a chuckle and also appreciate this important message about the dangers of something. Amazing but true!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This email account should be used for professional communications only. Do not share the information contained within to any other parties without explicit permission of Accountants of Westchester, Inc. Also do not print this because something something trees. The views contained within do not necessarily reflect the opinions or thoughts of Accountants of Westchester, LLC. Or are we Inc.? Whichever. Hug a tree.


--ORIGINAL ORIGINAL MESSAGE--

From: newsoftheday@prodigy.com
To:  stevetheaccountant@accountantswestchester.com

SO funny/dangeorus/sad/true! Did you hear about how

REMAINDER OF EMAIL UNABLE TO DOWNLOAD DUE TO LENGTH

?